


Silent Murder

by StarkRogers135



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Abduction, Angst, Angst and Feels, Blood, Character Death, Child Death, Child Murder, Crying, Death, Hurt Tony Stark, Kid Fic, Kidnapping, M/M, Parent Tony Stark, Protective Steve, Steve Angst, Steve Feels, Tony Angst, Tony Feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-04
Updated: 2013-02-04
Packaged: 2017-11-28 06:26:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/671334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarkRogers135/pseuds/StarkRogers135
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I'm so sorry about this TT~TT WHAT IS WITH ME AND WRITING ANGST ALL THE TIME??????</p>
    </blockquote>





	Silent Murder

**Author's Note:**

> I'm so sorry about this TT~TT WHAT IS WITH ME AND WRITING ANGST ALL THE TIME??????

It was getting late on a Friday night, the time getting around to be eight o'clock. Tony was laying in Steve's lap while he watched their four-year old son play with some building blocks, along with his Iron Man and Captain America plush dolls. Tony couldn't have asked for anything better than this. Tony was getting to be a little tired but he didn't want to go to bed yet. A couple hours ago, Steve had literally took Tony out of his garage because he had "been down there for way too long." Tony didn't think twelve hours of working was that much! At least he wasn't down there for twenty-four hours. Then that would have been a bit of an issue on Tony's part.

"Tired?" Steve cooed gently to Tony, kissing his husband's neck softly, noticing that the man was zoning out a bit. A tiny smirk pulled at the corners of his mouth, seeing that Tony looked like he'd fall asleep at any given moment, though the soldier wouldn't mind a bit of that.

"Huh?" Tony grunted, rubbing his eyes a little. "Just a little bit. Not much." he reassured the man. "Don't worry about me, Cap." Tony hummed and planted a soft kiss on his husband's lips. Tony laid his head on Steve's shoulder and tried to keep his eyes open for as long as he could before finally letting them flutter closed. He didn't have them shut for long. Tony opened his eyes again when he heard Peter's overenthusiastic voice.

"Daddy is Iron Man, Papa!" the boy said, waving his Iron Man doll around, pretending to make it fly. "He don't have time to be tired!" How Peter was always so awake, Tony would never know.

"You see there, Steve?" Tony laughed softly, looking up. "I don't have time to be tired. Peter even said so himself~" Oh, if only that were true. It wasn't like Tony could live off of enegry drinks and coffee his whole life.

"Says the man who once tried to stay up for twenty-four hours on a project downstairs." Steve rolled his eyes with a bit of humor. "Did you ever get around to it, by the way?"

"Since when have _you_ been interested in what I do, Steve?" Tony scoffed playfully. "But, yes. I just finished it today." Tony looked down when he heard Peter try to hide a yawn. "Come on, Petey. Off to bed with you." Tony pulled himself up to his feet and scooped his son up into his arms, grabbing Peter's two dolls first, before heading upstairs to the toddler's room. Once Tony started to head upstairs, he heard Steve start to clean up Peter's mess of toys that was still laying on the floor. Once Tony got Peter up in his room, the playboy started to undress Peter to get the boy into his pajama's.

"Daddy," Peter mumbled behind a yawn, rubbing his eyes, "can you read me a bedtime story?"

Tony looked at him after he pulled the boy's shirt down over his head. Damn. Tony was a lousey reader. "Uhm..." he mumbled. "Did you have anything in particular you wanted me to read to you?" he asked, urging Peter into his sleep bottoms.

Once Peter had his pants on, he stumbled over to the bookshelf he had and pulled out his Winnie-the-Pooh book. At least Tony was able to read that. "This." he said and waddled back over to his Dad.

Tony smirked softly and lifted Peter into his arms. He pulled the covers down from the bed before laying Peter down and covering him up. Tony laid down next to him and opened the book, starting to read. Twenty minutes later, Tony was asleep next to Peter with the book in his lap, his son in a deep sleep, hugging his toys close to him. Tony grunted tiredly when he felt something shake him.

"Come on, Dad," Steve whispered. "Let's get you to bed now." he took the book and put it on the dresser before he scooped Tony up into his arms, quietly carrying his half-awake husband to their room. Once they got to the bedroom, Steve set Tony down on the bed and started to strip him of his clothes, pulling some night bottoms on Tony and pulled out a t-shirt for the sleepy man as well. "Now you can sleep." Steve cooed gently and quickly changed himself, before laying down next to Tony, pulling the covers on over the both of them.

_The amount of blood spilling was horrendous, the reactor just barely flickering. Tony wanted to throw up. He felt sick. His skin was pale and he felt weak. He held his side as a profuse amount of blood came out of his side, an ugly gash showing in his side. Blood slowly trickled out of his mouth, his breathing short and struggled. Tony felt thickly lightheaded and felt like he was about to pass out from the loss of blood. His vision was slowly getting darker by the second until darkness finally swamped over him..._

Tony gasped and quickly sat up, shaking. Tony coughed, expecting to see blood on his hand, but saw nothing. He jumped a little, panting, when he felt large hands on both his shoulders. Tony snapped his eyes up, tense. He relaxed a little when he saw that it was only Steve. He let out a heavy sigh. "Just a dream," he whispered to himself. "It was just a freaky-ass dream."

"Ton?" Steve coaxed, rubbing Tony's back soothingly. "You alright?" These dreams that Tony's been having seem to be more and more active lately and Steve's been getting worried a lot for the brunette who has been suffering them.

"Me?" Tony huffed, running his fingers through his hair. "Oh, yeah. I'm fine. I'm just perfectly fine." Tony let out a heavy, shaky breath, dodging his eyes away from Steve's worried blue ones. Tony cleared his throat trying to gather himself together again. "I'm going to go check on Peter and see if he's alright." Tony mumbled and stood, leaving, before Steve had a chance to protest. For some odd reason, Tony had this bad feeling in his gut that his dream had something to do with Peter and he didn't like it. When Tony walked into the little boy's room, he didn't get a chance to speak a word when he suddenly went a powerful, invisible force slam him into the wall, the small male letting out a gasp as he slid down, hearing a faint crack in the fall from where his head had struck. Then, the sound of glass shattering like little glass raindrops, blinded him into tears. When he had everything in focus again, a strangled cry came out of him. _"Peter!"_ Tony screamed in panic, moving over to where the blankets were tossled. Tony clutched the Iron Man doll to his chest, rocking himself back and forth, whispering to himself that Peter couldn't be gone. Tony didn't react when he heard Steve rush in.

"Tony, wh-" Steve stopped short. He looked at Tony kneeling in the broken glass, hugging the toy doll. Tony looked _totaled_. He suddenly looked like he hasn't slept in days. Well, that was coming from Steve's point of view, after all, so yes. That is something Steve would very much say. "Tony...?" Steve whispered, hearing his own voice shake in panic and fear, but he was more calmed on the inside, even though he was freaking out that their son had just been taken to God knows where.

"H-He can't be gone," Tony hiccuped on his sobs, tears streaming down his paled face. "He c-can't be gone. He just c-can't!" A struggled sob racked itself free of Tony. He looked horrible. Hugging his son's toy, sitting in glass from the window, crying. It was as if he could actually feel Peter's pain that caused his own, but that was just a physicological thing.

"We'll find him, Tony," Steve coaxed lovingly. "I promise. Let's get you cleaned up and out of this glass, yeah?" the soldier suggested and tried to moved Tony but the playboy's body trembled badly.

"No!" Tony wailed, jerking away harshly, hiccuping on his sobs. "I w-want my baby back! I want him back h-home and in my arms!" Tony was really shaken up by this whole thing.

"We'll get him back, Tony. We will," Steve said firmly, but gently. "You just...come _on_ , Tony. At least get out of the glass. Please! I don't wanting you to get cut up."

Tony shimmied away from the glass, continuing to clutch the toy to his chest, opening his eyes a little when he heard the glass tremble again and saw Steve pick up the Captain America doll. "I-I want my baby..." he whimpered thickly, coughing on a sob. Tony rubbed his eyes firmly. From the sounds of it, Tony was also saying that he wouldn't go to bed until they found Peter. Though, the results of finding their son...well, it won't be very happy. Once Tony had pulled himself together again, he was brought into the den and sat on the couch, rocking a little. Whatever he saw must've spooked him pretty bad.

"Come on, baby," Steve whispered. "I need to know what you saw. Other than Peter getting taken away." Steve tried not to get frustrated with Tony. It wasn't the playboy's fault he was scared, though it wasn't really an attractive look on him. Fear and popularity don't necessarily go well together.

"That's what I saw, though," Tony sniffled. "Why don't you believe me?" Tony let out a cough, rubbing his eyes. "J, do you have a pinpoint on Peter yet?" Tony asked his AI quickly, his one leg bouncing with anticipation and eagerness. He wanted his little boy to be safe. Tony didn't know what he would do if he found the boy hurt...or even worse.

_"Though it took a long amount of doing things rather tediously-"_

"Skip to the point." Tony said with a gruff, pained voice.

_"Of course, Sir,"_ Jarvis sighed. _"As I was saying, it was tedious but, yes. I have the location of Master Peter, Sir."_

Tony straightened up and quickly scanned the screen in front of him, memorizing it. "Put it into the quinjet coordinates," Tony demanded. "I don't really care what time it is. I want you to wake Natasha and Clint up now. Tell them it's an emergency and to meet me and Steve by the quinjet."

Steve looked on worriedly at Tony. This wasn his normal, everyday battle ready Tony Stark. This was the ready to _kill_ someone for taking his son Tony Stark.

As promised, Natasha and Clint showed up at Tony's quinjet, looking badly tired, Clint dragging his feet a bit and rubbing his eyes. He saw Tony pacing back and forth with his hands in his hair. "What happened exactly?" the blonde archer asked around a yawn.

Steve looked up. "I'm not completely sure because Tony is unable to tell me all the details," he sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "He's only told me that there was an unearthly pressure that slammed him into the wall and a dark...mass of something took Peter and fled through the window. That's as much as I know."

"Great," Natasha mumbled, scrubbing her eyes with a hand. "Let's go after whatever took Pete, have me and Clint kill it if possible, and get Peter home, yes?"

"That's the plan," Tony finally spoke up, voice weak but very determined. "Now come on. Inside." Tony had the Iron Man doll clipped to his pants, not sure what Steve did with the Captain America one. Tony looked like he was about to break down and sob again but he resisted the urge to. He just wanted to be able to hold Peter again. Tony would have wished that they never went to look for Peter...

It took hours, but they finally got to their destination, Tony being the first to jump off. Tony memorized the map and Peter's location so he could lead them straight to Peter. As he did so, he continued to get this gut-wrenching feeling that constantly told him to turn around but his feet continued to walk forward. Suddenly, the smell of strong, fresh blood filled their noses, Tony screwing his face up. "The hell?" he grumbled, taking a few more steps forward before stopping dead in his tracks.

Peter. 

There was a pool of blood around his lifeless, limp, broken small body. Tears rolled down his eyes. "No," he whispered. "Peter!" Tony yelled, his voice cracking. The playboy dashed over and collapsed to his knees, cradling his son's dead, bloody body to his chest. "No, no, no, no," he whispered shakily, pressing his face into Peter's messy brown hair. "God, please no. P-Petey. Wake up. Please wake up for Daddy. Please." Tony started to hiccup on his words again. Tony rocked Peter in his arms, the boy's body cold. "Peter, p-please wake up. We can go home now. Y-You're safe now. Your Papa is here and so is your Aunt Nat and Uncle Clint. C'mon, bud. Please..." A choked coughing sob tore out of him, the man not even caring that his shirt was getting stained with Peter's blood, carding his fingers though the boy's hair.

"Tony, baby," Steve whispered, gently rubbing Tony's trembling shoulders. "It's time to go home." As mch as Steve didn't want to leave Peter either, they had to leave.

"I don't want to leave him," Tony whimpered badly. "H-He needs to wake up. He has to..."

Steve frowned, pressing a soft kiss to Tony's shoulders. "He's...not going to wake up, sweetie. He's gone for good," Steve whispered, trying to nurse Tony away from Peter. "And I don't think Nick wants us bringing him back like...this..." the soldier comforted weakly. "It's time to go home, Tony, whether you want to or not."

"I-I want Peter home," he sobbed into cold, soft brown hair. "I want my baby boy to come home with us!"

"He's not going to, Ton," Steve said, prying Tony away from Peter and got a yell of protest out of the billionaire, resulting in having to literally carry to man. "We're going home. I'm sorry, baby..." With that said, the both of them and the two assassins walked into Tony's quinjet, Tony sobbing into Steve's chest, feeling warm, large hands stroke his hair.

THE END.


End file.
